


One More

by relic_amaranth



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Getting Together, Mild Angst, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relic_amaranth/pseuds/relic_amaranth
Summary: Steve and Bucky have been happily together for a very long time. However they both have been pining after you practically since they met you…and have yet to make a move. It’s getting frustrating. So they decide– why not make a little bet, just between them, to kick their asses in gear? All either one has to do is be the first to tell you just what you mean to both of them. They’ve fought a war; they stare down evil on a regular basis and run into danger as members of the Avengers. A tiny bit of rejection? Hardly a contest. This should be easy. Should be. Should.Spoiler: it isn’t.





	One More

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Such fluff; mild angsting; while no gendered pronouns are used, ‘Cinderella’ is a one-off joke and Reader is depicted as generally pleasant, sometimes cute, and smaller than Steve or Bucky; point of view sticks to Bucky and Steve; also, as canon goes on, I should probably start putting where my fics fall in the timeline so this one is a post-‘CA: TWS’ alternate thing where Bucky is a member of the team.
> 
> A/N: The problem with how I write is that I write a bunch of things all at once and then want to post them the second I finish them. Sometimes things naturally space out, and sometimes I find myself sitting on multiple fics that all may have taken a lot of time, but don’t look it because they’re wordy fuckers and I post them back to back because I just want them out of the house. Ah, fic writing– when you think you’ve got it down, there’s always another dilemma around the corner. But speaking of wordy fuckers: this thing actually got way longer than I intended. I was even gonna have two more sections but snip-snipped that right quick when I saw how it was shaking out. So uh…please enjoy this probably-way-too-long Stucky/Reader fluff fic.

 

“… _three_ times!”

Bucky laughs. Steve smiles indulgently at the sight of you and Bucky trading stories and good-natured jabs. As Steve sits in the warm, comfortable brownstone he shares with his longtime lover, he can’t help but notice how lucky he truly is.

And yet, he still wants.

“It’s getting late,” you say sadly as you look at the clock.

“‘Getting?’ It _is_ late,” Bucky says.

“I know, and I’ve got work tomorrow.” You sigh, stand, and stretch.

“You can stay here tonight,” Steve says, standing at the same time as Bucky.

“Thanks, but I’ve gotta open up in the morning,” you say and go to grab your coat from the rack by the door. Steve is about to say something when Bucky intercepts your hand and gently pulls it back.

“It’s after midnight,” Bucky says.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m not a pumpkin yet,” you say and laugh. “I live a few blocks away. I’ll be fine.”

“There’s no way we’re gonna let you walk home alone, Cinderella,” Bucky says. “Come on; you’re not gonna make two old men go out _this_ late, are ya?”

“No. In fact, you two should go to sleep; it’s way past your bedtime.”

Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh and Steve laughs at how Grumpy Bucky somehow looks like the most adorable assassin the world has ever seen. Bucky turns his head to frown at him. “You’re supposed to be on _my_ side.”

“Oh, I am.” Steve grabs his boots and looks at you. “We’re walking you home, and that’s that.”

You roll your eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh, but still wait for Bucky and Steve to get ready– crossed arms and all. “You two are so stubborn.”

“You know it,” Bucky says with a wink, and you allow them to escort you home. You chatter in the cold, even with your heavy coat, so Steve walks close to you. Just to be a gentleman like Bucky is always nagging him to be, of _course_. He doesn’t miss how Bucky mirrors him on your other side, and they trade longing looks where you can’t see. Steve thinks this is it; the perfect moment. He and Bucky are alone with you and it’s quiet; they could tell you at once how they both care about you, how they want–

“Here we are!”

Steve bites down on his tongue and smiles. You hop up the steps, taking back your slight warmth that leaves him so cold he immediately sidles next to Bucky and wraps his arm around his lover’s back.

You smile fondly at them. “Sweet dreams, you guys.”

“You too,” Bucky says. “We’ll wait until we see you safely up there. You remember the sign for ‘help?’”

You and Steve laugh and Bucky scowls. Steve kisses the corner of his mouth as you try to stifle your laughter. “Bucky, I’ll be fine,” you say. “Are you just trying to give me nightmares?”

Bucky crosses his arms and looks petulant. “It wouldn’t be a concern if you just stayed where it’s safe, but _no_ , you _had_ to go home.”

“Where it is also safe and where I have clothes and soap and a toothbrush,” you say, tone still fully amused. You hug them both and Steve soaks in the momentary feel of both you and Bucky in his arms, where you both belong, until you pull away. “Geeze guys; I’m two floors up but fine, I’ll wave. Night!”

You disappear into your building and Steve sighs, but watches your window. “Don’t worry Bucky,” he says. “No one knows what they mean to us. There’d be no reason to hurt them.”

“Natasha knows,” Bucky grumbles.

“Natasha knows everything,” Steve says as the light turns on. “Or almost.” They both wait for you to come to the window. You do.

And then you flip them off.

Steve laughs and Bucky groans. “Where was that on the ‘help’ scale?” Steve teases.

“Goddamn _brat_ ,” Bucky says. But you’re smiling and you blow a kiss. Bucky and Steve wave back and then turn to go home, Steve’s arm around Bucky, and Bucky’s arm around Steve. Steve loves this– going home to a place that is safe and warm and his, his and Bucky’s, _with_ Bucky, who is as happy and safe as he can possibly be. If this is all he has for the rest of his life it will be more than enough, more than he ever expected to have.

And yet.

“Well, I tried,” Bucky says. Steve looks at him in confusion so Bucky clarifies– “I tried to get them to stay the night.”

“Oh.” Steve can sympathize. But he also can’t help himself. “You call that ‘trying?’”

“Shut up,” Bucky says and bumps into Steve as he unlocks the door and lets them both back in. As they strip out of their winter outerwear, Bucky says, “You think you can do better?”

“I know I can,” Steve says on instinct.

“Oh yeah?”

There’s a familiarity to that tone that makes Steve square his shoulders. “Yeah,” Steve says. “What’s the challenge?”

Bucky says your name and licks his lips. “First one to tell them wins.”

“And what do I get when I win?” Steve asks. Bucky growls and pushes him playfully, and things devolve from there.

* * *

“Hey. We never set stakes for the bet.”

Bucky catches Steve’s fist and they both stop. “Hmm,” Bucky says, brain working overtime. Until– “First kiss.”

“What?”

“Since this benefits both of us, the guy who actually manages to say the damn words gets first kiss,” Bucky says. To Steve’s frown he says, “Well what’s _your_ genius idea?”

“Nothing, but I– isn’t that assuming a lot?” Steve asks. “What if they have no interest in being with us? What if they think we’re weird? What if–”

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice is gruff but his hands cup Steve’s face gently. “If you wanna psyche yourself out and let me win you don’t have to go through all that.”

Steve lets out a little laugh and Bucky pats his back gently as they stand. “Naturally, it’s up to them if they wanna do any kissing, but if they _do_ want us, then they probably wouldn’t mind kissing the one who brings it up first.” Bucky smirks. “‘The one’ being me.”

Steve laughs some more, easier. “Jerk,” he says and moves back. “Don’t be too sad when you lose.”

“Just for that, I’m gonna savor the moment when I win,” Bucky says and they start attacking again.

“Are you betting on that pathetic excuse for a match?”

Bucky and Steve immediately stop and turn to see Natasha and Sam standing off to the side. The two men mumble awkward greetings that make Sam lift an eyebrow and Natasha look over them carefully. She saunters forward and says, “I want in. What are we betting?”

“Nothing,” and, “None of your business,” Steve and Bucky say at the same time.

Sam’s face crinkles. “Eugh. It’s something I don’t want to know about, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Steve says in hopes that it will stop the conversation.

Instead, Natasha smirks, Bucky groans, and Sam looks interested. “Okay, now that I definitely know it _isn’t_ that, I’m curious.”

Steve winces and looks at Bucky. Who, ever unhelpful, just rolls his eyes. “Leave the lying to the pros next time, Stevie.”

Steve frowns and crosses his arms. “You're not any better at lying than me. You don’t even really lie; you just glare at people until they go away.”

“And?”

“You think your murder stare is going to work on either of _us_?” Sam asks and Natasha looks equally unimpressed.

Natasha then starts to circle Steve and Bucky. “Now…what would make you so embarrassed to clam up _this_ much?” She leisurely walks, holding up one arm so she can tap her lip idly, until she suddenly stops and her mouth curls into a grin that wraps _your_ name in a low purr. Steve knows his flinch gives them away.

“Finally,” Sam groans. “Are you two actually going to grow up and tell them how much you want them?”

“You know?” Steve and Bucky say together.

Sam scoffs. “We _all_ know. Clint’s threatening to turn the tension into a modern gothic romance novel.”

Steve frowns. “Why gothic?”

Sam shrugs. “He’s adding some stuff to ‘zhuzh it up.’”

“I’m curious,” Natasha says, studying the couple. “What is the bet _about_?”

Steve clamps his mouth shut, Natasha stares, and Sam rolls his eyes. Bucky puts his hand to his face and mutters curses under his breath.

It is not the most auspicious start.

* * *

“I don’t get it,” Tony says and swallows his food. “They’re already so into you it’s nauseating.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and stabs his chopsticks into a box of noodles. “They _like_ us, sure, but–”

“They follow you around like– like an adoring groupie. Or like those fish that follow whales because they eat–”

“ _Dinner_ , Tony,” Pepper says sternly and Tony goes back to shoveling food onto his plate. And into his mouth.

“My point,” Tony says, once he’s done chewing (to Steve’s eternal gratitude), “–is that they spend more time with you than anyone else.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky scoffs. “That doesn’t mean they’re in love with us; it just means they prefer us to you.”

“Un. Possible.”

“As for the real issue…” Sam says and looks around. “What are _we_ going to bet on this?”

“Twenty on Barnes,” Clint says immediately and Steve almost chokes on his food.

“You can’t bet on– Bucky don’t _fist bump him_!”

“Of course we can bet on this,” Natasha says. She smirks at Steve. “What does _your_ bet entail?”

Steve’s face flushes. Tony bursts out laughing. Bruce grimaces and says, “I don’t…really want to know.”

“Eh, Bucky’s blushing too.” Clint munches noisily. “It’s gotta be something disgustingly cute.”

“Twenty on Steve,” Rhodey says, leaning back in his chair and, for all intents and purposes, enjoying the show.

“Steve? Really?” Bucky squints at him. “Is this because I made fun of your boyfriend?”

Mouth now occupied with chewing, Rhodey opts for the single finger salute.

“Yeah, Barnes.” Tony grins wickedly. “Not _all_ of us are angling for a threesome.”

“It’s _not_ like that,” Steve says sternly and Bucky grunts his agreement. “We love them. It’s that simple.”

“Simple,” Natasha repeats and shares a look with Pepper.

Steve huffs. “‘Simple’ doesn’t always mean ‘easy.’”

Bucky shakes his head and reaches for another box. “Nothing ever is.”

* * *

They come out even in the end– on Team Bucky are Clint, Rhodey, and Natasha. On Team Steve are Pepper, Sam, and, surprisingly, Tony (“What can I say? I love an underdog.”). Bruce abstains, and Steve and Bucky get all of them to promise that they won't interfere.

Then the only problem is…

“Figuring out a plan of attack?” Bucky bumps into him playfully as they clean up the kitchen. “ _Captain_?”

Steve smirks at him and snakes an arm around Bucky, pulling him in. “Wouldn’t you know, _Sergeant_?”

“Nuh uh.” Bucky slides out and away. “I’m not on your side now. This is war. _I’m_ gonna get that first kiss.”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Steve says in obvious disbelief. “Just make sure your attempts don’t scare them off the _both_ of us.”

“The only thing that’s gonna scare them away is _your_ ugly mug,” Bucky says and grabs Steve’s chin. “I’m smooth, remember? Got you into bed when you coulda been arrested for it.”

“You can’t go by me, Buck.” Steve moves fluidly, pinning Bucky against the counter and pressing so solidly that their bodies practically merge. “I’m easy.”

Bucky grunts and shifts his hips upwards, and smirks when Steve inhales sharply. “How easy, Rogers?”

“You should know that by n-”

Something hits the wall and both Steve and Bucky jump apart, ready to fight.

Only to see you standing in the doorway, wild-eyed and rubbing your arm before you raise your hands in open surrender. “I am so, so, _so_ sorry!”

Steve sighs and both he and Bucky relax. “It’s oka-”

“I swear I thought you would be at the tower until late and I–”

“Wh-”

“–wanted to bring back Steve’s book and I figured if there was a good time to use the key then this would be–”

Steve says your name to no avail.

“–it but oh god I am _so sorry_ I _swear_ I will knock from now o- or, or just, announce my presence, very loudly–”

Bucky says your name, lips pulling into a smile. He steps towards you but stops when you wave your arms frantically.

“No! No, please, go back to– um–” You flutter your hands at them and back out of the room. “I’m so sorry!” you call out just before you run away.

Steve has to clamp down on his laughter and Bucky slumps, drained. “Jesus Christ,” he swears and flinches when Steve runs a hand up his chest, pulling Bucky’s shirt with the motion. “You're still in the mood after all that?”

“Oh, definitely.” Steve grins and runs kisses from the end of Bucky’s right shoulder up to the crook of his neck. “Did you see how they looked at us? We might not know how they feel, but they’re definitely…interested.”

Steve nips and Bucky curses. “You're lucky I’m irresistible,” Bucky mutters, the joke falling apart with his breath as Steve continues to touch him.

“Mm hm,” Steve agrees, sliding his hand down. “When we get them comfortable with us, it ain't gonna be _my_ hands all over you.” Bucky’s breath catches and Steve goes on. “Or, from that reaction, imagine how _shy_ they’d be…”

Bucky’s hips jerk against air, and he spins and presses against Steve as hard as he can. “You're a fucking menace, Rogers.”

“I’d like to be,” Steve says cheerfully, and then drags Bucky in for a kiss.

* * *

In the interest of fairness, there are some ground rules set: when one man is trying to court (“That’s so fucking stuffy.” “What would you rather use? _Woo_?” “…” “That’s what I thought.”) you, the other is not to interfere in any way. They get one day of their choosing to put a plan into action and no more than three days to figure that plan out. If a mission comes up on that day, it’s a wash and the one who was interrupted gets to try again as soon as possible.

Steve’s not sure that going first is actually an advantage. He has no idea of what he’s going to do. He does know that all of Tony’s suggestions are going on the ‘Never Ever Do This’ list. Thanks, Tony.

(Except for that one thing that he’s definitely going to do with Bucky and then tell Tony all about later just to watch him melt in horror. Thanks, Tony.)

But Steve needs something gentle; to ease into it.

Gifts seem like a good idea, but he doesn’t want to get you something that’s just a _thing_. He doesn’t want to be heartless about it– after all, this whole thing is about getting a message across. You seem to like his drawings, so he starts sending some to you– a sketch he did while hanging around the tower; a cartoon of Tony while waiting in the lab; a picture he drew of Bucky while on the jet on their way out of the country.

(You reply to that last text with a string of three hearts which, he’s trying very hard not to read into, but it makes him smile almost hard enough to hurt.)

He doodles in the margins of his notes during a SHIELD meeting and sends you a capture while on break. You respond with emojis that imply amusement and he’s glowing (and distracted) for the rest of the meeting.

The next picture is more of a challenge. He tries to draw from memory, one night when all three of you were bundled up on the couch, with you snug in between Steve and Bucky. Steve tries three drafts, scraps them all, nearly finishes a fourth and then crumples it in frustration. On a whim he decides to stylize the fifth attempt and it’s…not bad. A bit more platonic than what he was going for, thanks to the cartoonish style, but it’s a good memory and looking at the visual representation makes him relive the warmth he felt as you had drifted off, ensconced in one arm while Bucky had leaned right over you to sleep on Steve’s shoulder.

He whips out his phone, takes a picture, and sends it before he can second-guess himself. He waits, nervously, for what feels like hours. Maybe you hate it and you’re trying to word it nicely. Maybe you’re just busy and haven’t seen it yet. Maybe–

His phone sounds with an alert and he scrambles to check it. It’s–…Natasha.

He puts the phone down.

It chimes again.

Tony.

Five texts and an hour later, it’s finally you and Steve sinks into his chair with relief at the string of gibberish that you always insist means something good. At the (more coherent) accusation of _‘witchcraft!’_ he grins.

However when you send _‘you make me look good’_ his fingers start moving before he can think about what he wants to say, which ends up being, _‘you always look good.’_ This can either go terribly or well, and there’s nothing he can do about it now.

Your answer– _‘no u :p’_ – makes him smile.

He responds with, _‘both of us?’_

You send back, _‘I can deal with that’_ and add on two sunglass-face emojis.

Steve has an idea. He hopes it’s a good one, but even if it isn’t, this is only his first attempt and it can still result in something good.

_‘Bucky is busy tomorrow. Want to keep me company?’_

Waiting on this is almost as agonizing as waiting for the response to his art. Thankfully, this reply doesn’t take nearly as long.

_‘Yes!’_

“What’re you up to?” Bucky asks and leans over to give Steve a kiss.

“You need to find something to do tomorrow,” Steve says and holds up his phone. Bucky reads the last few messages and snorts.

“Kicking me out of my own home, Rogers? Cold.” Bucky smirks and stands up straight. “You better make it worth it.”

“Oh I will,” Steve says as Bucky walks away. “When it happens I’ll call you up and tell you all about it. Make you real jealous.”

Bucky laughs and flips him off.

* * *

“This is so nice.”

Steve smiles and has to agree. Outside is cold, but not in a crisp, refreshing way– more like brown slush than new snow. Wet and uncomfortable. In here, though, a fire is going. You are stretched out on the couch with your book and phone and Steve is in his chair with his sketchbook. The two of you have spent the day in comfortable silence and intermittent conversation. Not a rare occurrence, but always a nice one.

You look at the pencil in his hand and smile. “What’re you drawing?”

“Something,” he says noncommittally and shades in the pages of the book you had been reading. Objectively, the drawing is decent– flattering where it needs to be while still being true to life. Subjectively, Steve wants to throw it in the trash and hide his head like an ostrich.

“Can I see it?”

Steve swallows his insecurities (some, at least) and hands over the drawing pad. He doesn’t want to, but at the same time can’t help but watch you as you look over the picture. Your mouth parts and Steve wonders how easy it would be to steal that kiss. He would never– but it’s nice to imagine leaning in, giving, and receiving, and having that be the new normal.

“This is–” you blurt out and look at him in shock. “Steve, you always make me look good, but this is…beautiful.”

Steve grins, mostly out of relief. “I just draw what I see.”

You smile but he can tell you're holding back a bigger one. “Careful, or Bucky will get jealous.”

“Oh no; he’s definitely on my side for this one,” Steve says and feels gratified when more of your smile spills onto your face. He reaches out. “Here, let me–” He pulls the page out of the book as neatly as he can, then hands it to you. “Keep it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask. “I mean, not that you need a drawing of _me_ ; it just…seems narcissistic.”

“Keep it anyway. So you know how you really look,” Steve says.

You shake your head but put the illustration carefully in your book. “Hey Steve? You know that picture you sent yesterday? The one of you and me and Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have a copy?”

Steve very carefully pulls that one out and hands it over as well.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Steve is actually extremely pleased to see you handle that picture like it’s priceless. Like it’s worth anything at all. It gives him hope.

You stop staring at it long enough to glance at Steve. “Do _you_ need a copy?”

“No; no need.” He doesn’t say that, if all goes well, eventually both pictures will be back in this house, with you. Bucky always chides him for jumping the gun, but truthfully, Steve _can_ be patient, especially when the bigger picture is in view. The moment isn’t quite right for even a simple confession of love, so he allows it to pass. Next time. And after that…life doesn’t always work out like Steve expects it to, but he’s been surprised more than once. For this, he has hope.

* * *

 

Bucky loves cooking. It’s relaxing, he’s good at it, and he loves eating. It’s also nice to do something with his hands to create, rather than tear down.

Also, it makes him friends.

“Cupcakes!”

He grins at you. “Cupcakes are for later. Pizza first.” And he goes back to rolling out the dough.

You sigh like you’re in heaven. “Steve is going to be _so_ upset he missed this.”

Bucky smirks, because Steve already is. Banished while Bucky makes dinner for the two of you, Steve had tried to send a picture of his dinner with Bruce, Pepper, and Maria as a gotcha. Bucky had retorted with a picture of you helping him make the cupcakes, a spot of batter on your cheek. Steve had replied with every angry emoji he could find. Bucky’s almost certainly not going to get laid tonight when he sends Steve a picture of you eating the delicious food he’s made, but it’s already worth it imagining Steve’s reaction.

Bucky dusts his flour-covered hands on his apron (‘Kiss the Chef,’ because subtlety is for chumps who want to _lose_ ) and looks over his canvas with satisfaction. “You wanna help me top it?”

“Hell yeah!” As you scramble to wash your hands, Bucky grins to himself. Going through the stomach to get to the heart is terrible advice, combat-wise, but he thinks the metaphor is sound enough.

…Although, if he got the angle just right–

“Is that enough sauce?” you ask, popping up on his right side.

“Yeah. Don’t want it to get soggy,” Bucky says. As you both top the pizza, he tries to stay as close to you as he can without smothering you. He doesn’t always succeed– at one point you elbow him as a friendly warning– but he’s never more than an arm away from you.

“It’ll just be a few minutes,” Bucky says and pulls off the apron. No kiss yet but, eh, that would’ve been too easy. “Go wash up; I’ve got the rest.”

You hop off and Bucky busies himself by setting two spots at the table. He’s going for casual because even he has to put his foot down at candlelight. If he’s going to tell you, it’s going to be with words, dammit. However, casual also means he can sit next to you rather than across from you. He gets everything into place by the time you return.

“It smells sooooo good!” you say and sit down.

“It’s gonna be the best damn pizza you ever tasted,” Bucky boasts and goes to get said pizza.

When you take your first bite you moan, and Bucky is reminded that this is, in fact, his best idea ever. As the dinner goes on, though, he gets nervous. What if–…what if.

“Are you and Steve okay?”

He blinks himself out of gloom and doom to one of the strangest questions he’s heard lately. “Yeah, we’re fine. Steve’s still an asshole. It’s still great. Why?”

You smile and relax. He frowns at that. Why wouldn’t you be relaxed already? Shit. “Nothing. Just…you guys have been spending time apart even not work-related and I was worried you’d had a fight or something.”

“Nah. We can’t be in each others’ pockets _all_ the time.” He takes some more food onto his plate. “In fact, you sayin’ it like that makes me think we should spend _more_ time apart.”

“You’ve both spent a long time apart,” you say and shift. “It probably doesn’t help that I–…”

You clear your throat and force yourself to look at him like you’d rather look anywhere else. “I keep crashing on your time together. Be honest, Bucky– do I need to back off?”

“No! No,” Bucky says and takes your hand. “We both want you around; we…” This is it; his moment. “…Really…” He just has to “…really…” say “really” the “really” words…

“Bucky?” you prompt when nothing else comes. And now you’re _staring_ at him.

“…really like…having you around,” Bucky finishes, inwardly deflating like a balloon. Luckily you don’t seem to notice by how relieved you look, and Bucky forces himself to press on despite how much he wants to punch himself right in the mouth.

* * *

“Wow, Buck.”

“Shut. Up.”

Steve puts his hands up but he’s still smirking. “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“You just did,” Bucky says and goes back to the very important task of trying to smother himself in his pillow.

Steve chuckles and leans over him to start kissing his bare back. Bucky had thought he wouldn’t be getting any tonight, but trust Steve Rogers to find Bucky’s humiliation to be an aphrodisiac. “Hey Bucky?” Steve says and then goes on in between each kiss, “I really…really…”

Bucky growls and fists the sheet in his hands.

“…really…really…really…”

Steve starts laughing _hard_ and Bucky has enough and tackles Steve to the floor, but the asshole _doesn’t stop laughing_. In the end it’s less that Bucky doesn’t get laid so much as Steve sleeps in the guest bedroom.

It’s the principle of the thing.

* * *

There are few things more classically romantic than a movie night. Also, few things can make such an easy transition from friendly _to_ romantic.

Steve has snacks, drinks, and some movies you both love. He’s as confident as it gets.

The doorbell sounds and Steve smoothes out his shirt (nicer than usual but also entirely appropriate for a night spent on the couch) before he goes to answer the door.

“I am _so_ ready for this!” you say as you breeze past him. “This week sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says sincerely and helps take your jacket while you kick off your shoes. “Hopefully this’ll make it a little better.”

“That and the fact that I have the next two days off,” you say eagerly. “Where’s Bucky?”

“He’s busy; it’s just us.” Steve smiles at you. “Is that okay?”

To his relief you laugh. “I’m beginning to think you guys are only calling me over when you need company.” You lead the way to the living room.

“If that’s the case then it’s only because you’re our number one,” Steve says and sits next to you on the couch. “You and Bucky are my favorites. I’d do anything for the both of you.”

“One more than the other, but that’s a good thing,” you say and wink.

He wants to say no, not necessarily in the way you’re thinking– there are some scenarios Steve can imagine where Bucky would _never_ forgive him for choosing Bucky over you– but Steve tries to put those nightmares out of his head. This is going to be a nice evening and he’s going to make the right moment happen. Somehow.

You’re a little stiff and distant at first, unusually hesitant to cuddle up compared to how you normally are, but as time goes on you relax more and more, until you’re leaning against him, sharing a blanket and a bowl of snacks in his lap. It’s like normal, but at the same time, not. Normally Bucky would be on the other side and Steve would be leaning against him, an arm around you. Steve’s still holding you, but it’s…different. He wants it to be different. He hopes you want it to be different.

You fall asleep on him and Steve pulls the blanket up over your shoulder. He holds you closer but doesn’t dare go even as far as he normally would. Even if you don’t know it yet, the situation has changed and Steve won't chance hurting you, or having you look back and wonder if he ever took advantage.

You shift in your sleep and he glances down, only for his eyes to stay. You’re frowning. Then you grimace, and Steve says your name softly. He repeats it a few times, going up in volume each time, until you inhale sharply and open your eyes. “Whhh…”

You rub your eyes and he helps you sit up. He notes how you tense under his touch and he lets go. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…just…” You look around the room, and then settle on him. Your eyes widen. “Did I fall asleep on you?”

Steve smiles. “Yes; you–”

“Oh god I am _so sorry_.”

Steve’s smile falls as you keep apologizing profusely. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’ve fallen asleep before.”

“But never _on_ you! Did I drool?!”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but stops. “Do you normally drool?”

You scowl. “Not. The. Point.”

He chuckles and rubs your arm. “You’re fine; there’s no need to panic.”

You sigh heavily but, to his relief, you do calm down. “I’m sorry; it was a…weird dream.”

“A bad dream?”

“Sort of.” You look around the room again. “It’s late. When was Bucky going to be home?”

“Late, if not sleeping at the tower,” Steve says.

“Do you think–” You have to stop for a moment to compose yourself. “Can we call him? Make sure he’s okay?”

“Of course,” Steve says and pulls out his phone to start texting.

_‘Are you close by? Long story, but they woke from a bad dream & need to see you.’_

_‘A bad dream about your ugly face?’_

_‘Ha. Ha. Seriously though they’re p. upset.’_

_‘Be there in 10.’_

“He’s on his way home,” Steve says. He helps you up, puts his arm around you, and leads you to the kitchen. “Come on; let’s get something warm to drink while we wait.”

Steve opts to heat some mugs of the hot chocolate Bucky made just a day ago. He barely sets the cup in front of you when he hears the door unlock and Bucky strides in soon after. Steve stays back as you rush to hug him. Movie night didn’t go as planned, but his only real regret is whatever dream has shaken you so badly.

You reach one arm out and make a grabbing motion at Steve, without pulling your face from Bucky’s chest. Steve almost goes for your cup when you make a ‘come here’ motion. And then again, urgently.

“Oh,” Steve says and walks around the counter to join in. Bucky chuckles and Steve elbows him. “Shut up,” Steve says but kisses him as he wraps one arm around Bucky and one arm around you.

“It’s not your fault you're blond,” Bucky says and gives Steve a quick kiss. Steve rolls his eyes but he can’t be too mad about it. Especially when you relax against them.

“Are you feeling better?” Bucky says and reluctantly lets go when you pull back. Steve follows, just as hesitant.

“Yeah. I’m– I’m fine.” You sigh. “I’m sorry; _so_ sorr-”

“Hey.” Bucky lightly tucks your chin. “No one in this house apologizes for nightmares. Or else Stevie comes after ya.”

“Damn straight,” Steve says.

You raise one eyebrow. “How so?”

It’s a good opening, but Steve can’t bring himself to take advantage when you still look so tired. He can sympathize– he’s had enough nightmares to understand the feeling. And, as a close friend, he does have some leeway.

“Oof– what– hey!”

Steve, with you slung over his shoulder, turns to Bucky. “Bring the hot chocolate with you, Sergeant.”

“Roger that, Rogers,” Bucky says and salutes.

“Ugh.” You sigh but when Steve sets you down, you're smiling. “I should really know better than to challenge you by now.”

“It’s all right.” Steve takes his rightful place next to you and puts his arm over your shoulders. “Bucky’s been doing it since we were kids and still doesn’t know better.”

“Or maybe I know _exactly_ what I’m doing,” Bucky says and, after setting down the drinks, mirrors Steve on your other side. When Steve smiles at him, Bucky momentarily glares, but loses the look before you can see, and the night goes on with Steve wondering what the hell _that_ was for.

* * *

He finds out later, when he and Bucky are alone again the next morning and cleaning up after breakfast.

A cloth connects with Steve’s face and he flinches, but the dishtowel falls harmlessly into his hands. He wads it up and throws it back. “What was that for?”

“You _stole_ my date.”

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“I was gonna take ‘em to the movies but you–”

“Nothing’s stoppin’ ya.”

“You stole it and _wasted_ it.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, because watching movies is such an _original_ idea.”

Bucky’s scowl doesn’t lighten. After a few moments he lifts his head and looks away. “Well. At least it backfired. Serves you right.”

“Uh huh.” Steve leans on the counter. “It was real nice for a while though, Bucky.”

“Sure,” Bucky says and keeps drying.

“They laid on me.”

“Mm hm.”

“Slept really nice. Up until that nightmare.”

“And then they wanted to call _me_.”

Despite Bucky’s smugness, Steve smiles softly. “Yeah. And it felt good when you came home and sat with us, you know? It felt right.”

“Yeah. It was…nice.” Bucky says, watching Steve more cautiously.

“So nice.” Steve’s sigh is almost forlorn and Bucky only raises his defenses in response. Bucky remains wary as Steve approaches and puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, and makes direct eye contact. “I’m really tired of not knowing how they feel, of not having them with us when they could be. So I just want you to know, Bucky– I’m really, _really_ counting on you to pull it off.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “You… _bastard_.”

“I mean, I _really hope_ this doesn’t put too much pressure on you.” Steve’s smirk says the exact opposite. “But I think you have the best shot out of the two of us and I really want all three of us to be together as soon as possible. So I’m happy you’re up next, Buck; I _know_ you won't let me d-”

“Shut up!” Bucky says and throws a muffin at Steve’s head.

Steve ducks and exits the room with one last, “I’m counting on you, Buck!”

Bucky leans against the counter, breathes deep, and wonders why he has to love such an unrepentant asshole.

* * *

Steve is never going to let Bucky live this down.

Bucky adjusts a button and grumbles nonsense under his breath just to get the frustration out. It’s not like he has a lot of options. Dancing is out; he can’t be that unguarded around that many people. He had thought of Coney Island and even took Natasha to scope it out, but nixed it for similar reasons. Too many points of attack, too easy to infiltrate. With Steve it’s different– Steve can defend himself, for the most part. You are, comparatively, small and soft. Hell, even if Steve got _shot_ Bucky’s pretty sure he’d be okay, but you– if you got shot, he–…he–

–doesn’t want to think about it. So he won't. Anyway, fuck it; he’s been on mission after mission and at this point he’ll take time with you in whatever way he can get it. He shifts his mug to the side and watches the sidewalk like a hawk. Every face is filtered and put away, stored in case he sees it more often than he should.

But then there you are, rushing in and cutting through the background noise like only Steve can. “I’m sorry I’m late,” you say and start to shrug off your jacket. Bucky gets up to help and drapes the cold fabric over the back of your chair. He forgets what cold is when you hug him.

“It hasn’t been that long,” he says and breathes you in.

“Well it felt like forever,” you say and let go. He, reluctantly, does the same. Once you’re both seated, with your respective coffee drinks, you practically slump over and onto the table.

“People are either dumb or conspiring to get in my way.” You pick up your drink and take a sip, and set it down with a satisfied sigh.

“Both?” Bucky suggests, falling into ease with you. The buzzing in his skin fades and his mind quiets.

“Yeah, definitely both.” You smile and lean your head in one hand while the other absently feels over your cup. “I missed you. And Steve. Is Steve okay?”

“He’s fine; doing clean-up, and I needed a break,” Bucky says. “And, uh…” He tries for his best smile. “I missed you too.”

You duck your head but he sees the way you grin. “So did I– fuck; I mean, I already said that– shit.”

“‘S okay,” he says as you try to curl in on yourself. “I like hearing it.”

You look up at him like you don’t quite believe that, but you sit up at least. “I always miss you guys when you go away.”

“It’s still nice to hear,” he says stubbornly and you laugh.

You start talking, and Bucky listens. Mostly. He’s distracted by the task at hand, and just by…you. As much as he wants– needs to be there to cover Steve, the work is draining physically, mentally, emotionally. Sitting with you, doing something innocuous, is the sense of peace that keeps him going out into the field. That and Steve being a reckless asshole.

A man approaches and Bucky tenses and watches him cautiously. The other man eyes Bucky warily, but like a civilian who ‘isn’t sure about that Winter Soldier guy.’ He’s not a threat.

Until he turns to you.

“Hey,” the man says and Bucky bristles.

“Uh…hi?” you say and shoot Bucky a look that says, ‘is this guy for real?’

Bucky wants to tell him to fuck off, to _warn_ him, but he doesn’t trust himself to speak, to not sound _too_ threatening. Because like it or not, he _is_ that ‘Winter Soldier guy.’ So he tries to hold himself down while his tongue is locked in his mouth. You look concerned, though, and he hates himself for that.

“So I was wonderi-”

“I’m sorry, but I’m here with a friend and you’re interrupting.” You look at him coolly but Bucky can see you glancing at him. He wishes he could reassure you but he…can’t. He just can’t.

When the intruder looks at him, though, Bucky promises violence in his eyes. It does the job and the man stumbles back with a half-assed stammered apology and runs back to the safety of his table.

Your eyes focus on Bucky but turn down with concern. “Bucky, are you–”

That table laughs raucously and you both frown in their direction. Not that they notice.

“Talk about striking out!”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously though, why even try?”

“Why not?” The man lounges and talks like he isn’t being heard. Guess again, asshole. “Isn’t he fucking Captain America? In any case, he’s not dating some _nobody_.”

Bucky makes a fist but restrains himself– until he sees your face, and knows that you heard it. When they start ranking you as a fucking _number_ he stands abruptly, catching their attention. Catching everyone’s attention, but he makes eye contact with the mouthy little bastard. “You got something to say to us?”

The man, three shades paler, shakes his head ‘no.’

Something is pushed against his right arm. He turns his head and you’re standing with your jacket in one hand and pressing his jacket towards him with your other.

“Come on,” you say, terrifyingly stony. Bucky obeys easily, you both grab your drinks, and go.

You don’t say a word almost the entire way to your apartment and Bucky sinks into despair. He tries not to go to the worst possible scenario, but it’s hard, it’s so hard when he knows he fucked up.

About a block away you suddenly stop and pull him aside. “Hey,” you say softly. Bucky doesn’t normally think much of hope, but you don’t seem as angry. “I know that guy weirded you out. Are you okay?”

“Um…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “Are _you_ okay? You're the one who–”

“I’m fine,” you say and it’s back to flat silence the rest of the way. Bucky waits downstairs for the okay and you appear in the window just long enough to give him a distracted wave.

By the time Bucky gets home he’s run through almost every way the date (get-together, whatever) could have gone better, and he’s completely drained.

“Hey Bucky! How’d it–” Steve gets one look, slams his book shut and hops out of his chair. “Bucky what happened?”

Bucky walks over and plants his face in Steve’s shoulder. He’s home, at least.

An hour later, Bucky is tucked into blankets on their bed and grumbling under his breath about assholes ruining a perfectly good date.

“I don’t know if it counts as a date if one of you doesn’t know it was a date,” Steve chuckles.

“Says the guy who probably yawned and stuck his arm around–” Bucky says your name in a despairing groan and puts his hands to his face.

“It’s gonna be all right, Buck,” Steve says and wraps an arm around him.

“They’re _mad_ at me.” Bucky doesn’t budge.

“They’ve been mad at both of us before,” Steve says. “If that bar in Greenwich didn’t make them cut all ties with us, this won't do it.”

Bucky opens his mouth but the doorbell rings.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve promises and kisses Bucky before he goes to the entryway.

Steve opens the door to see you standing on the porch. As soon as the entry is opened you breeze in and ask, “Where is he?”

“Bedroom.” Steve’s eyes move down to the box you're holding, but he barely gets a glimpse of it before you stride off to your true target.

“Bucky?” you ask. Bucky flinches but turns his upper body to face you. You walk around to his side of the bed, Steve following, and set the box on the nightstand.

“I’m sorry I acted like a jerk,” you say and sit next to him. “But I was mad and I didn’t want to say something I would regret later.”

“O…kay…” Bucky says. He clears his throat and opens his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Bucky; you’re one of my best friends and I love you– but you have _got_ to think of _yourself_ sometimes!”

Bucky’s mouth shuts and opens and shuts and what is happening?

“I know you were trying to protect me,” you say, ignoring the motions. “But you’ve gotta think about how that looks. Yeah they were jerks but you’re a big, intimidating-looking guy with a big intimidating reputation and most people are morons and don’t know better. So.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you, Bucky, but I am a capable adult. Sometimes. I can handle shit. If that ever happens again and you need to let it out, just, I don’t know, join me in making fun of their clothes or something. Deal?”

Bucky smiles, and it doesn’t feel forced. “Deal.”

“Great!” You pull the box onto your lap and open the lid. Inside is a cake with ‘Sorry’ written in script and surrounded by frosting flowers. “Since I’m done yelling at you, I brought a peace offering to share.” You fold down the sides and hold up a group of forks. “Come here, Steve; even though I didn’t yell at you, I _guess_ you can share too.”

“Oh, well, don’t put yourself out over it,” Steve says and sits on Bucky’s other side.

You hold the forks away from him. “Keep up with the sarcasm and you’ll get _no_ cake.”

“I’ll just use my hands,” Steve says and moves to swipe a finger in the frosting.

Bucky smacks his hand. “The hell you will,” he says. “The crumbs from this alone are going to be bad enough.”

“Prissy baby,” you say and hand out the forks. “I’ll help you change the sheets after this.”

Bucky can’t help himself. “Will you stay in ‘em too?”

You choke before the bite even gets to your mouth. “Don’t tease me, Bucky,” you say, and Bucky is so desperate he imagines longing in your voice.

The cake is delicious and you keep your word and stay to help make the bed. The task takes about five times as long but it’s more fun than Bucky’s had in a while. He doesn’t say anything, and he knows he’ll love you no matter what, but he hopes– he _hopes_ you want this too.

* * *

Except, things take a turn. For the worse. You avoid hanging out with them, and all of Steve’s attempts to get you one-on-one go ignored or are actively rebuffed. It’s driving Steve crazy. Bucky blames himself and it takes Steve a solid three days to convince him otherwise– which isn’t easy to do when Steve is also trying to pull himself out of doubting everything he’s done. Between that, their friends asking how they’re doing on the bet, and just not seeing you, Steve thinks he’s handling everything okay. Not great, but okay.

Still, everything has a breaking point, and Steve is honestly considering ignoring your request for space to just show up on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you tell him what is going on. He assumes it has to do with him and Bucky, but if something else is going on and he didn’t try to help…

Thankfully that’s when your name pops up on his phone with a text message. He actually breathes a sigh of relief before he swipes it open. And then he doesn’t breathe at all.

_‘I need to talk to you and Bucky.’_

Bucky thunders down the stairs, phone in hand. “Steve, Steve; we fucked up. _We fucked up_.”

“Easy, Bucky,” Steve says, but he’s starting to panic too. Did they push too hard? Make you uncomfortable? Did they misread the signs? What if you were always just trying to let them down gently?

Like a switch has been flipped, Bucky calms. “Hey, hey, Stevie,” Bucky says gently and holds Steve’s arms with a likewise touch. “It’s okay; breathe.”

“I don’t have asthma anymore, Buck,” Steve protests weakly, but doesn’t resist when Bucky manhandles him into sitting on the couch.

“You still need help knowing how to breathe, though. It’s okay; you’ve always been a little thick,” Bucky says and sits next to him.

“Shut up. You’re one to talk,” Steve mutters but he squeezes Bucky’s hand. “How are _you_ so calm?”

“What can I say? It’s a federal crime to stand by and watch Captain America cry.” Bucky rubs his thumb over Steve’s (dry, _really_ ) cheek. “They’ll lock me up, Stevie. ‘Winter Soldier whatever; you let Captain America be _sad_.’”

“Shut up,” Steve says but he can’t help but smile. He does breathe. “You're such a jerk.”

“You love it,” Bucky says and kisses his forehead. He starts to pull away, but Steve pulls him back in and kisses him firmly.

“You know I do,” Steve says. He sighs. “Right. We should–”

There’s a hesitant knock at the door and Bucky and Steve share an apprehensive look. Steve nods and Bucky gets up and opens the door just as you’re turning away.

“Oh. Bucky. Hi!” You clear your throat and face him. “I don’t want to bother you but…do you and Steve have time for me?”

“Always,” Bucky says immediately and he steps aside to let you in.

“We’ll see,” you say softly as you pass by. Bucky’s chest tightens and he follows you into the living room, but he blurts out your name.

You turn and Steve sits up. Bucky swallows. “Your message seemed kind of– kind of ominous. Are you safe?”

“Oh, yeah; yeah! Sorry Bucky.” You rub your eyes and– have you been crying? Bucky is not reassured, even though you try to smile. You sit in the armchair. “I’m– I’m just an idiot. I’m…safe.”

Somehow (‘somehow’) there is nothing reassuring in the way you say that. “Do you want something to drink?”

You shake your head and gesture at the couch. Bucky sits down next to Steve and tries to look casual, but he slips his right hand into Steve’s and squeezes hard.

It’s silent for almost a minute. You break it with a heavy exhale. “I don’t know how to say this,” you say slowly, “without you hating me right away.”

“There’s nothing you could say that would make us hate you,” Steve says.

“You don’t know that.”

“Are you Hydra?”

Bucky knows Steve means it as a joke, or sarcasm, but he can’t help but flinch.

“Steve!” you say, tongue even sharper than your eyes as you glare at Steve and then look at Bucky in concern.

“Okay, that was– sorry.” Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand. “But I stand by what I said before.”

You shake your head.

“I’m in love with you. I’m in love with both of you.”

As much as Bucky and Steve had dreamed of a moment like this, the execution– rushed, desperate, teary– leaves them speechless.

You stare down at your hands, kneading, pulling, gripping. “I, um…I know you guys love each other and I’m not trying to put myself in between you, I _swear_. I just need you to know, because I can’t hide it anymore and I don’t want to be…gross or inappropriate. I won't be as touchy anymore–”

“We love you too.”

You look up and your mouth moves in jerky, aborted motions before you can once more make sound. “Uhhh… _what_?”

Steve smiles softly but it grows and grows to cover the bottom half of his face. “I said: we love you too.” His voice is almost giddy. Bucky still can’t speak, so when you look at him he just nods rapidly.

“We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you; we couldn’t do it together so we’ve been trying to do it while spending time with you one-on-one. We actually, uh…” Steve rubs the back of his neck and tells you about the bet. Bucky waits nervously, afraid that you’ll be angry, but at the end of it you laugh. You laugh hard.

“I’m sorry! I– I just–” You wipe your eyes. “For a while I thought you were having _problems_! I’m– I’m so relieved!”

Steve laughs and Bucky grins. He’s ready to say something when his phone goes off and he curses. It’s Natasha asking for an update. Bucky glances at you, then fires off a quick reply and shuts off his phone.

“Once Natasha and Sam found out we were gonna make a move, they all bet on which one of us was gonna pull it off,” Bucky says.

“We had nothing to do with that,” Steve says quickly.

“Yeah, no, that tracks,” you say with begrudging fondness and a healthy roll of your eyes. You smirk at them. “I guess they all get to keep their money.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says and fidgets. “So even with all that, you still…”

“If that bar in Greenwich didn’t make me swear off you two assholes, I doubt anything will.”

Steve is still smiling like the sun shines just for him. Bucky looks from him to you. He wants to make a move, but… “So who got closest?” Bucky asks you. “Who wins?” He doesn’t even mind if it’s Steve, as long as something happens _now_.

You grin and point at your cheeks, index fingers poking in slightly. “Technically, _I_ win. Pucker up.”

Bucky and Steve share a smile, and go to you.

* * *

In Manhattan, Bruce sits serenely at the table as he collects his winnings.

And in a homey brownstone, on a comfortable couch, with the fire going and two gentle supersoldiers on either side of you, you collect yours.


End file.
